Understanding
by Jewelshoes
Summary: During a coffee break Sahira stumbes across somethings that give her a better understanding of her fellow doctors.


**I don't know why I wrote this, but I just wanted Sahira to have some insight into her colleague's lives... I hope it's not too strange. **

Sahira was exhausted, Indie had kept her up all night and Hanssen had been on her back all day about cuts. She just needed a break. By break she meant coffee, not long holiday in the Maldives, with just her husband for company. However she did prefer the latter. Having brought herself a large cappuccino Sahira's current worry was to find a place to drink it. The cafe was too manic, and the nurses had taken over the staffroom in a debate about Posh and Becks new baby's name. Luckily she remembered the ice queen, aka Jac Naylor, and Elliot were off together for a date theatre, so their office was empty. Sighing she lowered herself down into Jac's leather chair and started to peacefully sip her coffee. However, as she leant back, letting the coffee give her its full extent, the poignant smell of biscuits hit her nose and giving in to the temptation Sahira slyly sauntered over to Elliot's desk and riffled through his drawers. Helping herself to a few bourbons , she stood back and concentration on his desk. It always amazed Sahira how much you could get to know about a person from their desk. Elliot's was scattered with papers, crumbs and cards. Curiously she peeked inside some of the cards. Several were recent and from grateful patients. But many were old, dating back to previous Christmases and birthdays. A few caught her eye, they were different from the rest, and inquisitively she opened them and greedily read the insides:

_Dear Elliot_, one said.

_Thank you ever so much for your support during our wedding. Faye couldn't have asked for a better stand in father. We'd love you to join us for dinner one day as a thank you. Mother too would like you to visit her._

_Joseph and Faye Byrne_

_Dear Elliot,_

_My condolences on the passing away of your wife. She was always such a happy women, one of the only people I knew never to forget anyone's name nor to forget to smile and say good morning. _

_If there is anything I can do please just ask._

There were many more condolence cards in the pile, however Sahira decided not to read anymore of them, because she felt that was a step too far, she'd never even realised Elliot's wife had passed away, and felt a pang of regret for reading that card. But it didn't stop her from wondering how long ago it happened, judging by the cards it was at least a few years.

The next card she came across, was a postcard with the Eifel Tower obscuring the view of a Paris .

_Dear Elliot, _it read

_It's me Connie, I don't know if Jac told you, I'm now working with the European Organ Transfer tea, for a while. I'm getting paid double my Holby salary, don't worry I've put in a good word for you in case you ever feel like it! I have to say I miss seeing you each day, looking after dad is tiring and almost never rewarding, as his dementia is getting worse. But it is nice to spend time with him and though he can't often remember my name I feel like I'm getting to know him even better. Grace is doing well at school, but misses "Uncle Elliot". You must come round some time so we can catch up and you can update me about Holby._

_Much love, Connie x _

Framing Elliot's desk was a collection of photographs, a handful of him and the same women, she looked his age and so Sahira imagined she was his decreased wife. A number were of him with a young couple, she supposed one must be his child and the other their partner. There was a black and white baby scan too, and a photo of him in a top hat and tailed suit at a wedding. He looked rather hilarious as he was grinning proudly and looked a little drunk! He stood next to the bride and groom, both very glamorous, the bride was in a crimson gown and the groom in black tie. A boy sat in front it a wheel chair, the brides hand placed on his shoulder. They were all surrounded by friends, a few she recognised; party girl Donna Jackson and someone she was sure she recognised from the papers as the tragically killed Linden Cullen. The last and most recent was of him in scrubs grinning madly with a dark haired woman, not his mistress, but a good friend she supposed.

Niftily Sahira rearranged the papers into their original positions and went over to Jac's desk. Compared to Elliot's Jac Naylor's desk was the polar opposite. Pristine and bare, hers held no photographs, only a neat pile of patient notes. Annoyed Jac's desk gave her no insight into her insides Sahira drew open a drawer. At first she was disappointed the drawer held only patient notes, but looking closer she saw they all displayed the name of Paula Burrows. Who this woman was Sahira did no idea but she supposed she must have some connection to Jac, as the notes were over a year old and yellowing slightly. This find however did not fulfil her curiosity and ravenously she lifted away the pile, uncovering, uncovering Jac Naylor. Sahira had experience in discovering what little things in or on a person's desk showed their true personality, and she knew right now that here was where Jac kept things special to her. At the bottom of the drawer lay an assortment of items, a book; The Outsiders, an old library book, its pages a faded yellow and extremely thin, showing they had been fingered many times. Next to it lay a present tag, pink ribbon laced through its hole; _Fill them x_, was all it read. There was a photograph too, a man and a baby. Sahira noticed that the man holding the baby was an older version of the groom in the wedding. In this photo he looked a lot more worn, happy as well, but sad in some sense;_ the perfect life; dog, house, job but no wife. I miss you x_ was written on the back, the writing was smudged as if someone had cried whilst reading it, and had held it tight many times. Next to the photo lay an old pager, it hadn't been used in a while, and on its side there will still the name of its previous owner _Joseph Byrne._ Finally the last thing in her desk was a small scrunched up note in the corner; _I just couldn't forgive myself, thanks for everything x_. This was not much, but enough to show Sahira Jac was not a robot and maybe she had some reason for why she was like she was.


End file.
